


Lovebirds

by opentillmidnight



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Barista!Pharah, Bartender!Mercy, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-07 09:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opentillmidnight/pseuds/opentillmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fareeha Amari has been living life comfortably by attending Overwatch University, going to the gym, and working just enough to get by. During her morning coffee, she unknowingly discovered something that will break her routine of life and that something wears her blonde hair in a ponytail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> This story switches from two points of views  
> Odds: Fareeha  
> Evens: Angela
> 
> Every chapter is paired with a song to add to your reading experience
> 
> Happy reading, everyone!

_Beep beep._

_Beep beep._

_Beep beep._

The room is draped in dark shades of blues and grays. _Beep beep_. The cold wooden floors reflect a sliver of light seeping past the semi-transparent curtains just enough to illuminate the surrounding figures faintly. _Beep beep_. The brightest thing in this studio apartment are the red flashing numbers on the window ledge screaming at me. _Beep bee–_.

After pressing the snooze button on the annoying contraption I twist my body so to face the wall my futon is pushed against rather than the beating neon on the alarm clock. My dark short hair drapes over my face, eyes closed, brows furrowed.

“It’s 7:00 AM Fareeha, time to adult,” it implied.

“Shh… five more minutes,” I mumbled as if there was any living entity nearby to hear, already awake, already mentally preparing myself to face the day.

_Beep beep._

“Coffee. Coffee should help,” I say with a bit annoyance, it disappearing almost instantly after.

With one deep sigh, I toss the comforter to the side and roll myself out of bed so to shuffle my body towards the nearby window bay, turning the alarm fully off. I stand there for a moment in my loose old graphic t-shirt with an eagle on it and plaid boxers and stare at the sun shields, contemplating. I draw the navy blue and white chevron patterned curtains to the sides with a squint at the harsh light that formerly threatened to intrude my cave. Looking through the glass, I spot the people daring enough to be up this early as well.

From the second floor it was quite easy to watch a woman jog around a corner. She looked as to enjoy her morning exercise a little too much given that the sun just came out. Recalling back, I see her almost every morning. Maybe it’s a routine jog.

“Oh right, coffee,” I whispered to myself, genuinely surprised at how lost in thought I was.

Abandoning the cushioned bay, I make myself over to the kitchen. Already brewed, I take the coffee pot and a clean mug from the sink, pouring the deep brown liquid into so. About another serving or two is left over once I put it back. Lastly, about a rounded teaspoon of sugar was poured in and stirred around until I thought the small crystals dissolved confidently. Out of all the things I could save up for and buy, I felt as if a decent coffee maker was a necessity to my life. Boy, was I right.

I make my way back to the window bay, sitting down and leaning against the glass so I can return to my morning observance.

A few men in suits strolled side by side, all engaged with some business-like conversation. A mother and her young son hand in hand probably on their way to school. The jogger from earlier walking out from the corner bakery located down the street with a paper brown bag in her hand. A few pigeons land near a bus stop bench, searching for breakfast too. The sun, just a bit over the horizon, is starting on a path to hide behind some clouds that sat higher in the sky. Thankfully close tall buildings blocked most of its blinding light at this time of day. My eyes divert to the dark substance in my cup, steam faintly rising in my face, the heat beaming into my palms, the deep bold smell sinking into my nose.

“You’ll always love me, right Joe?” I spoke through my smile before I give my summery coffee an indulgent kiss.

The bittersweet taste of my morning coffee is ironically bittersweet situationally as well. I’m happily kissing my hot drink rather than someone special in the morning. A deep sigh escaped along with a momentary pout.

“Poor me, have mercy on my soul,” I say to Joe jokingly with a small laugh before averting my eyes towards the window again.

The pigeons now perched up on the overhanging street lamps across the street, a lady with the walk of someone who hasn’t slept and defeat stumbles under them. Her blonde hair in a messy ponytail, bangs in her face, half apron crooked, eyes squinting with tired but somehow had her makeup together and walked in heels flawlessly despite the rest of her looking like a mess.

I continued to watch her slowly make her way down the street more until she eventually turned a corner too far for me to see down from my window.

I take a sip.

“Have mercy on her too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- "Joe" is referring to the commonly used nickname for coffee known as, "Cup of Joe"
> 
> Update:  
> \- Every other chapter will switch between Fareeha's and Angela's perspective. Expect odds to be Fareeha and evens to be Angela.  
> \- Every chapter will (hopefully) be paired with a song just for fun and give your reading experience a nice sprinkle. Let me know if you rather have them in the End Notes or the Beginning Notes.
> 
> As of now,
> 
> Aquarium by Nosaj Thing  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdmk3748tLo


	2. If I Would Know You, Would You Know Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read the update in the end notes of chapter one before continuing if you haven't already!
> 
> Clair De Lune feat. Christine Hoberg by Flight Facilities  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcu1AHaTchM
> 
> Happy reading, everyone.

With the sun rising, the glares of windows illuminate the waking town of Gibraltar. The cool, quiet morning breeze flows through the streets and carries a nearby flock of pigeons. They scatter and coo until comfortably perched up on the row of street lamps adjacent to the bus stop they called theirs just a moment ago.  

Some still whisper their coos while I walk myself under them. My body is heavy and feels like it’s filled with sand. These early morning shifts are really taking a toll on me. I enjoy the atmosphere and relaxed position of a bartender but I swear my boss is purposely giving me the 1:00 AM to 7:00 AM shift. It isn’t necessarily the busiest part of the open hours but it definitely drags in the more rowdy of the crowd. A man today came in already drunk with nonstop insults as if he breathes the smoke coming off of the people he has roasted. It was quite some work to get him out of the building and up the stairs immediately outside the door until we were confident that he wouldn’t camp out here. On top of that, the bar closes at 4 in the morning and then cleaning starts. I would say that the bathrooms are the easiest compared to the sticky vomit and cigarette floors in the main lounge. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a trashy dollar store bar. It has the potential to look and feel luxurious if the people who came and gave us their business weren’t reckless uni kids with the littlest empathy. It is just as much work as the calmer hours of the night, if not more.

“Ughhh…” I groan under my breath, stumbling against the sidewalk as sleep seeps in.

“Almost there, Angela. Just a little longer.”

I push my bangs out of my face and widen my eyes in hopes that would help wake myself up a bit. If anything, it just made my eyes feel drier and made me feel regretful of that decision. I chose to try to walk a bit faster in hopes that I can make it back to my condo quicker. The clacking of my heels is the only noise around beyond the soft sounds of the city. The rustle of the leaves tickle eachother. A bike bell from across the street. The conversation of a group of businessmen ahead of me walking in the same direction as I am. The pigeons seemed to follow with their sounds too or maybe there are just a lot of these sky rats around.

“I’m so sorry, meine lieben,” I say as I pass one on the ground. “I don’t really mean that.”

“Insulting poor innocent birds, Angela? Get yourself together,” I thought.

Turning right at the corner and left at the next street, I can see the doors that lead to my safe haven. The condo main entrance was a simple windowed wooden barrier and a buzzer next to it. I walk up the steps and punch in a 4 digit code in the pinpad and the door buzzes while unlocking.

Almost there, Angela.

The door clicks locked behind me while trucking myself up the three flights of stairs. My legs are as heavy as cement right now. Even my waist apron, stained with small spots from bleach and glitter somehow, felt heavy. I dig in my purse for my keys while almost crawling up the last flight. Jingling until I find the right gold colored metal, I approach my red door. Unit 305, first on the left. I push my key into the lock along with my forehead against the cool paint of the door, making my way inside with one sluggish move.

After kicking off my shoes and placing the black pleather crossbody purse on the couch, I make my way into the kitchen thirsty. I search for a glass that isn’t filled with soapy liquids from the “I’m just soaking it” excuse for the past week and fill it with the filtered faucet water and shuffle my way to the bedroom across the condo. I pause and look at the white, contemporary furniture and with a sip to tend to the dryness in my mouth, I agree with previous thoughts of the couch not being as comfortable as the bed would be.

Continuing forward I put my cup down on my night stand and began to undress. The first thing to hit the floor is the dirty apron. Next I peel off my black shirt and struggle with dark skinny jeans along with gravity’s determination to bring me down.

“Uff..you stupid.. Pants. Ugh. Come on– AH!”

With a close call and a lucky self-catch on my bed, I finally got them off. After tossing my bra in the pile at the foot of the bed and taking down my ponytail, I crawl in my thick comforted sheets.

“Sleep. Sleep will help,” I mumble as I drift off.

* * *

 

_Buzz… Buzz… Buzz…_

Inhaling quick and almost violently, my eyes snap open to the harassing noise vibrating against the wooden bedroom floor.

_Buzz… Buzz… Buzz…_

An irritated grumble escapes past my lips as I slip out of the comfort of my bed and bend over to take my phone off the ground. My bare body shivers at the cool air conditioned room, goosebumps rising their way up across the surface of my pale skin once feet touch the frigid floor.

_Buzz… Buzz–_

“Mmnn hello?” I say accompanied by a much needed stretch, my back cracking shortly after.

“Hey Angel,” a deep familiar voice promptly answers back, playfulness in his words.

“Don’t call me that,” I quickly snap, realizing who that voice belongs to.

“Fine. Hey Angela,” he says in the same tone.

“What do you want?” I demand, irritation clearly in my words. I squint at the circular clock on the wall, the little hand hovering just above the 11. “I’ve had about 2 and a half hours of sleep, and you know this.”

“And?” he said sharply, his tone of voice obviously changed as well. “I called to tell you that your shift was moved an hour earlier for tonight. 12 to 7. Got it? Got it.”

I groan and bite my cheek, “Yup. Is that all boss?”

“Ooh, I like when you call me that. What else can that mouth call me?” he says with delight.

“Disgusting,” I answered, feeling his smirk through the phone disappear.

“Fuck you, Angela.”

“No, thanks,” my jaw clenched.

“Watch yourself Angel,” the low-pitched voice threatened.

“Don’t call m–.”

The line beeps a short tone and the call was over.

Keep your tongue held Angela. You don’t want to lose this job.

“Asshole…” I whisper, disobeying my previous thought, hands abandoning the cellular device onto the bed.

I lay back on the bed, facing the ceiling with my palms pressed into my eyes. Maybe if I pressed hard enough, I’d be injured to the point where I don’t have to come in today. But then that also means I’d be in pain and I can’t go to class today either.

“Verdammt. I forgot about class,” I whine, eyes watering.

I turn my head towards the same wall and sigh, gathering myself. Looking at the clock, it names 11:24 as the current time.

“If get up now, I have time for a decent breakfast before my 1 o’clock class,” I thought to myself.

My eyes scan past the clock over my red painted room, complimented with white ceiling and floor crownings. My desk, left of the soft ticking time teller, is scattered in papers and note cards like the autumn leaves on the ground outside.

The semester just started Monday and it almost feels overwhelming for just being a week’s worth. How does 3 days a week, 1 to 4 PM, take this much of a toll on me? It’s only Friday. Oh right, work.

With one sigh later, I sit up and make my way to the bathroom. I suppose it’s time to start my day. I draw the shower curtains and turn on the water, allowing it to warm itself as I take the last piece of clothing I left on prior of my nap. My underwear falls to the cool tiled floor, leaving it there. As I step out of them I step into the warm water raining from above and proceed to clean my very very tired body.

Once I am done with the warm comforting embrace of cleanliness, I go back to the bedroom.

“What clothes say, _Hey I’m a functioning adult_ , but feel like pajamas?” I say to myself as I go through my dresser, it sitting on the same wall as the bedroom door.

I pull out a shirt and inspecting it then stuffing it back in once I decide that isn’t what I want to clad myself with. I continue to do this until I come across a plain v-neck t shirt with a useless but stylish pocket over the left side of my chest and the length falling just past my hips.

“Yes! I think I have an idea,” I exclaim to the shirt before sitting it on the bed.

After having a plan, I go hunting for the rest of my clothes. A fresh pair of black panties are put on along with the matching bra I picked up from the floor. The shirt is pulled past my head as I walk over to the closet, grabbing a baggy navy blue cardigan with roses in different shades of pinks as the pattern. I soon cover my legs with soft jean capris that hug just right around me.

The mirrored closet doors help me inspect my choice of fashion.

“Eh. Passable,” I shrug at myself with a smirk.

The hair tie left on my nightstand was placed back into my familiar ponytail. Lastly, I make my way back into the bathroom and quickly apply liquid eyeliner across my eyelids. After years of trial and error for perfection, I can rightfully brag that I can be quick with my lazy makeup and rarely mess up. I allow them to dry for the next minute then head out to the kitchen.

Walking through the kitchen cooking area sandwiched between the condo wall and a breakfast bar, I go into the pantry. There sits a few, but very useful, protein bars. One is shoved into my pants pocket and I make my way back through the kitchen and into the living room.

My white furniture and walls with accents of yellow spread throughout. The sunflower colored throw blanket draped over my school bag that I quickly grab. Next my keys and cellphone. It illuminated the time.

“12:07 PM,” I whispered as I slip my Toms on and head out after locking the condo door.

I open the wrapper of my protein bar walking back in the same direction I came from earlier in the morning.

“Earlier than usual. Good job Angela,” I sputter while chewing the dense bar.

The birds are still out but instead of perched up high, they found comfort in the shade provided by the red and orange painted trees. I noticed that this is their usual routine since I moved here in the city of Gibraltar. I came here for Overwatch University’s famous med school program for aspiring registered nurses and other related fields. It feels like I’ve been here for a few months even though it has only been about 2 weeks in reality.

I already found that there is a convenient store nearby, my job is about a 25 minute walk, and the university is also walking distance of about 20 minutes. Additionally, there is this cafe right before the university’s main entrance I yet have to try out.

Speaking of, I spot the cafe restaurant within my sights. My eyes feel heavy still. Maybe I can pick up some courage and coffee after class.

Approaching the gates of the college, I slow my pace a little while passing the cafe. I read the sign that hung in front of the small shop.

_Rikimaru Cafe and Bakery._

“Hmm… That actually sounds really tasty. Now I ought to go in there for sure.”

I catch a glance of a few people in there ordering at the counter and some sitting down at tables with their laptops or a book. I see a scruffy man with a green apron and visor hat behind the cash register talking to an assuming customer. The barista looks vaguely like a dirty cowboy and the customer looked as if he would be an experienced samurai by the sharpness of his eyebrows and hair tied back. They could make a terrible B rated movie. 

I giggle to myself and continue to class, a few minutes to spare for enjoying the scenery.

* * *

 

“... and don’t forget that your first midterm is next Friday regarding chapters 1 through 6. Half the class is dedicated to the written part, and then lab immediately after. If there is a neighbor that is not here today, you should let them know too,” a calm but booming voice reminds before dismissal.

A hand raises and a few groans are audible, everyone being stopped in mid packing.

“Professor Zenyatta,” an accented high-pitched voice exclaimed.

“Ah. Yes, Mei?” he replied.

“Will there be open notes for the midterm?” asked the short timid woman with glasses.

Everyone’s groans and whispers stop and all look at the professor like meerkats waiting for the mysterious noise to sound again to determine whether it was friendly or a threatening.

“Open notes. Must be on a standard 2x3 note card, lined side, black or blue ink only. Good question Ms. Zhou,” the instructor said without skipping a beat.

With a sigh of relief, I follow others out of the classroom with my book bag. At least we’re aloud notes, no matter the size.

I walk out and cross the grand lawn, people sitting in groups and seemingly enjoying each other's presence. I once again admire the beauty of not only this campus but the entire city. It’s a beautiful afternoon accompanied with a gentle breeze and trees shedding their leaves. Clouds like to come and go throughout the day. This town may home the best type of weather for every season if this is just what fall looks like.

I continue past the giant entrance gates, smiling. However, with the Rikimaru cafe coming up, I quickly switch my attention to what I would possibly want to try. Possibly a tea? No, probably coffee would be more effective. I kind of need it.

I pull the door open and a small chime from a bell attached to the frame pronounces my entrance.

“Welcome to Rikimaru! Order whenever you’re ready!” a voice shouted from behind the counter, the back of their head being the only thing visable at the moment.

“Ah, um. Thank you,” I spoke back, unsure. 

With that, I took a quick look at their menu placed above the coffee makers behind the cash registers. All written in chalk, they seem to sell coffee, teas, pastries, and boba tea? That’s unique.

I lick my lips at the choices, my head tilted slightly back while I look at the endless possibilities. Then a glare of glass hits my eyes just enough to catch my attention to the display case of all the baked goods they offer. In the glass case reads a sign.

_Everything is house made fresh everyday!_

“That’s actually amazing that they do that. I bet it tastes so good,” I thought to myself.

“They do taste good actually. Are you ready to order?” the same friendly voice asks at what I assume is me since I am the only one standing in line.

“Oh my god I said that out loud. I’m sorry,” I spill out, sure that my face is turning the same shades of pink my cardigan has on it.

I look up quickly from the display case and to their face. It was a woman, wearing the same green apron as the guy from earlier. I felt as if I needed to bend my neck up again like I did while reviewing the menu. Her height beat mine without competition.

“No! Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, really. Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, her smile seemed to light up the entire room.

I clear my throat, definitely sure my face is red. This is what you get for trying to even think about eating sweets.

“Uh… Can I get an iced 3 shot espresso with 3 pumps of white chocolate. I’m so sorry if that is too complicated. I’m just really tired. Heh…”

God why are you being so dumb right now, Angela.

“Of course! A 3x3 white chocolate is easy. Again, no need to apologize. Is this for here or to go?” she questioned, hands ready to grab a nearby cup.

I do need to review some notes from today’s lesson…

“For here, I guess,” I laugh nervously.

“For here it is. That’ll be $3 even. … I guess,” she jokes at me, offering an empathetic smile my way.

“I see what you did there,” I laughed a bit more confident as I pull out a couple dollar bills from my wallet, giving it to her.

She giggled with me and gave me a number card with a bold 6 on it.

“Place this wherever you sit. I’ll be done with your drink shortly,” she explained in her melodic voice and went back to her work quickly.

I turn around and search the restaurant for a spot to sit. Luckily this isn’t a busy time of the day for what I can see. I see a booth near the front of the cafe, isolated to itself. A window seat would be nice. I place down the plastic standing card at the edge of the table and sit down on the side of the booth against the wall of the room, seeing over almost everything.

I open my bag and take out my notebook and blank flashcards, preparing myself to do some well needed studying.

“Here you are, miss,” the soft voice offered. She placed a disposable coaster down and the cold condensated glass containing my caffeine boost on top of it. Then offered a paper-covered straw onto the table.

I watch her place everything down swiftly and with one flowy move.

“Oh! No need to call me ‘miss,’” I blurt out.

“I’m completely fine with Angela, meine lieben. But thank you,... uhm thank you...uh,” I search her apron for a name tag, then eyes lock with hers with panic.

She must of noticed my failed attempt to thank her and once again, offered a comforting smile.

“Fareeha, I’m Fareeha. And no problem.”

“Thank you, Fareeha. Truly,” I correct myself.

“It was a pleasure, Angela,” she replied, gently placing a square paper bag next to my drink before returning to her position behind the counter.

I watched her walk back before bringing my attention to the mysterious item on the table I’m currently camped out on.

I peeked inside and there laid a warm chocolate chip cookie, the morsels still melted and oozing down wherever gravity took them. On the reverse side of the brown paper bag was a note written upon it in sharpie.

_On the house_

_– F_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Verdammt: damn it
> 
> \- meine lieben: my dear
> 
> . . .
> 
> If my German is wrong, I apologize. I just take whatever is the translation of the English terms I want to use.
> 
> I will update and show some behind the scenes on my tumblr, feel free to follow: opentillmidnightfics.tumblr.com


	3. Loving With Nobody to Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody To Love by Sigma
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KD5fLb-WgBU

“Will that be all for you, sir?”

I shift my weight from one leg to another, trying my best to focus on the man ordering rather than the throbbing in my thighs.

“Uh, actually can you add a green tea muffin too?” the goateed customer asked unsure.

“Of course I can,” I cheered, “A house blend, cream on the side, and a green tea muffin. Would that be all for you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“Alright then! Your total comes out to be $4.50. Is this for here?” I announced to him, punching in the order on the tablet attached to the cash register.

I traded him a number 5 table card for a $5 bill and a nod.

“You can keep the change,” he smiled.

“Oh, thank you!” I replied, he already walking to a booth near the back corner.

I exhale a deep breath and shift my stance again, trying to endure the pain striking at my muscles. I quickly punch in the given payment and take out the leftover 50 cents to place it in the tip jar sitting on the second tier of the counter.

I immediately go and start on brewing his cup, opening the container labeled _House Blend - Grounded_. I take a scoop and pour it in the brewing machine placed further down the back counter. With a nearby measuring cup now in one hand, I dispense about 12 ounces of water from a filtered faucet with the other. Then I quickly poured it into the top compartment of the machine and closing the lid.

After switching the machine on, I force my legs to walk into the direction of the display case. I cringe at the pain of each step. I really need to stop letting Aleks convince me that 10 more pounds from my personal record on the leg extension machine is okay.

I whispered, “It’ll be fine, she said. It won’t hurt too bad, she said.”

Don’t get me wrong, I like going to the gym with Aleks, or as she likes to call herself, “Zarya: Strong as a Mountain (insert victory pose here),” or something like that. She spots without a fight and encourages to push just a little more after a rep I’ve clearly been struggling on. However, she’s _so_ great at being a gym buddy that she easily persuades me to keep pushing even when I am past my limit. Today was one of those days.

“Ow…,” I whine under my breath.

Opening the back door of the case I grab a dull off-green muffin closest to me and place it on a clean plate from a stack on the under shelf. I put down the small plate on a serving tray along with a tiny bowl filled with small individual creamers. Tending to his freshly brewed coffee now sitting in a ceramic mug, I place that on its own little plate and start my way to the sharp eyebrowed, goateed man.

He is engrossed with his laptop, typing away viciously, as I place down each item.

“Here you are, sir. Let me know if I can help you with anything else.”

Without looking up, he replied, “Thank you.”

Back behind the counter, I start to throw out the used up grounds and wipe down the small splatters on the counter caused from the coffee being dripped into.

_Chling._

Scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot, I pipe, “Welcome to Rikimaru! Order whenever you’re ready!”

“Ah, um. Thank you,” a soft voice replied.

I gave in and started scraping at the old stain with my fingernail, it kind of working better than the rag. Once satisfied, I turn around only to see nothing.

I blink and turn my gaze just slightly down, realizing that there was, in fact, a person in front of me. About the size of a preteen, there stood a woman gawking at the display case of desserts and pastries made fresh this morning. If her pupils could be any wider, she’d probably shoot laser beams out of them.

“... I bet it tastes so good,” she whispered, practically drooling.

I couldn’t help myself but smile at her.

“They do taste good actually. Are you ready to order?” I offer, stifling a giggle.

“Oh my god I said that outloud. I’m sorry,” she sputtered, snapping up from her bent over gaze from the display case to meet mine. She looked as if she was ready to run.

“No! Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, really. Is there anything I can help you with?” I offered again, trying to sound comforting.

“Uh…,” she started, her eyes locked to mine. “Can I get an iced 3 shot espresso with 3 pumps of white chocolate. I’m so sorry if that is too complicated. I’m just really tired. Heh…”

Oh my gosh she’s so tiny to be having this much caffeine. She has to be no taller than 5 feet. Possibly 5 feet and an inch.

Despite my concern I replied, “Of course! A 3x3 white chocolate is easy. Again, no need to apologize. Is this for here or to go?”

I reach for the stack of cups, one being plastic disposable ones while the other stack were glass. I feel bad for being tall in this moment.

She stared at me almost dumbfounded. Her neck crooked up to meet my eyes.

She finally broke the short silence with unsurity, “For here, I guess.”

Am I making her uncomfortable?

“For here it is. That’ll be $3 even. … I guess,” I poked.

Unexpectedly, she laughed! This tiny blonde ponytail bundle of adorable just laughed at my laziest attempt to jokingly mock.

“I see what you did there,” she said through her giggles.

I can’t help but laugh with her as I place her order on the illuminated screen in front of me.

We trade cash and table card as I did earlier with the peculiar man from a few minutes ago.

“Place this wherever you sit. I’ll be done with your drink shortly,” I advised.

She doesn’t seem to have been here before. Yet, she looks familiar, like we’ve met already.

“Who is she?” I thought as I started my work on the espresso machine.

I scoop some ice into a glass and start pouring each shot one by one as they are brewed.

Blonde ponytail. Tired eyes. Small. Hmm…

I turn to the row of different sweeteners we have, finding the white chocolate and giving it 3 pushes into the now chilling glass.

“Oh!” I almost shout.

I immediately cringe at myself, looking around to see if anyone heard me. Luckily there are only three people in the shop right now. There is awkward laptop man, tired girl, and myself. It doesn’t seem to have phased either of them.

I collect myself and stare at the drink in my hand, recalling who this mysterious woman is.

She is that lady from this morning. The one who was walking from somewhere that looked like she might as well fell over and passed out. Was she drunk? No, she couldn’t be. Despite her unorganized walk, she looked awake enough to be on a mission to somewhere.

I place the drink down, it starting its own mission to numb my hand.

She must be so tired if she was up before I was and just, assumingly, came from a class at Overwatch. Judging by her backpack and notes already scattered on the table, she doesn’t seem to be going to sleep anytime soon either. The university was only around the corner but it was about 5:00 PM by now.

I dig my hand in my jeans pocket, lifting my apron just slightly to make it a little more accessible. Pulling out a few folded bills, I take a dollar out and tap the screen on the cash register until it opens and place the dollar inside. I then proceed to open the case and look inside, contemplating.

“What would she like…?” I whispered to myself.

Using the tongs, I go for the sliced pound cake and stop myself.

“What? No, Fareeha. Don’t get what you want, get something everyone can’t hate,” I whisper again.

“Cookies?” I asked myself.

Duh. Cookies, Fareeha. Everyone likes cookies.

And so I pick up a chocolate chip cookie made by my coworker, Jesse, this morning since he had the early shift. He got off at noon, about 2 hours after I started mine.

I placed it in a small square paper bag and stuck it in the conventional oven for a couple seconds. I quickly wrote _On the house –F_ upon the bag before putting it in my apron pocket and searching for her table.

She has camped out in the front of the cafe in the corner.

“Here you are miss,” I chimed with a smile.

I took a clean coaster out of one of my apron pockets and placed that down followed with her drink. My hand fished back in the pocket and tossed a straw next to it.

“Oh! No need to call me ‘miss,’” she corrected. “I’m completely fine with Angela, meine lieben. But thank you,... uhm thank you...uh,”

 _Meine lieben_? What does tha– Oh my gosh, she’s struggling. Satya ought to get us nametags, I swear.

“Fareeha, I’m Fareeha. And no problem,” I smiled for her comfort, but mostly because she was being too adorable.

“Thank you, Fareeha. Truly,” she spoke genuinely, her soft look somehow piercing through my eyes.

I look down at hers for a moment, lost.  
“Cookie, Fareeha,” my brain echoed.

Oh, right ya’ dingus.

“It was a pleasure, Angela,” I quickly replied before giving her the paper bag.

She looked at it strangely and that was my queue to make an exit.

I turned around and shuffled my sore legs back behind the counter where the tall display case hid most of me from her. ‘Most’ because of my respected height. I leaned over the lower counter holding the cash register and pretended to stretch my back when in reality I’m trying to stretch my will to live after that failed attempt to help someone.

You idiot, what if she doesn’t like it?

I take a deep breath before releasing a sigh. Standing back up, I push my doubt behind and continue to clean my work station. Jesse better fix his ways. I’m getting tired of cleaning after him. His work habits are as messy as that scraggly beard of his.

Now that I think about it though, I kind of needed that dollar. I was going to visit Lúcio after work for our weekend hangout. I don’t think I can get a bus ticket now nor am I in the ideal shape to walk across town. I should text him after my shift.

While thinking of ways to make it up to him, I wash some dishes leftover from earlier customers. I scrub each dining ware twice more after I picked off every piece of food to ensure they are clean.

_Chling._

I turned my head to the chime of the door.

“Welcome to Rikimaru! Order when– oh,” I stopped.

“How rude!” the familiar face gasped.

We both stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us blinking, neither of us moving. During our standoff, my eyes start squinting with dryness before the woman across the room closes her eyes. The dark hair woman pouts while her eyes stay shut.

“HA!” I laughed and smiled.

“Oh hush, I usually win anyways,” Satya laughed, eyes peeling open.

“Yeah, sure,” I laughed with her. “So what’s up boss lady, why are you back so early?”

“I finished my errands early and figured that I should let you enjoy your Friday a little early too,” she replied, walking behind the counter and joining me.

“What, no. That isn’t necessary Satya,” I protested, hands drying the mountain of clean dishes one at a time.

“I insist, honey. It’s almost closing time and doesn’t look busy anyways,” she raises an eyebrow and looks around the restaurant.

I turn and look around too. The man is still there with his laptop, screen filled with text I assume he typed. I changed my gaze towards the front and saw that the blonde had disappeared. I frowned but let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“It seems that you already had a headstart on closing procedures, Fareeha. Go ahead and take off, I’ll do the rest,” Satya once again offers.

I nod and put the plate down in the ‘clean and dried’ pile I made.

“Okay, thank you Satya. I’ll bring 6’s dishes back but yes, yes, I know, _that is it_ ,” I rolled my eyes jokingly.

She smirked, “That’s right. That’s it.”

She took over drying while I pulled off my apron and made my way to the table previously occupied by the small blonde woman.

She left her cup almost completely empty, there sat only the ice and a skinny line of coffee at the bottom. So the tiny can stand that much caffeine after all.

I approached to pick it up but spot a ripped lined sheet of paper sitting under it.

_Thank you. It was definitely delicious._

_♡ Angela_

If it wasn’t for my darker skin, I am sure everyone on Earth could see me blushing bright red right now.

I take the note and carefully fold it before putting it in my pocket, grabbing the cup and trash left on the table to bring them back.

“Are you okay? You look like you want to puke,” Satya asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“Y-yeah. Yup. Good and dandy. I’ll be going now. Have a nice weekend. I’ll see you Monday,” I spill before storming out of the building.

_Chling._

I need to distract myself. This is terrible. I’m totally over-reading this.

I take out my phone and start typing.

_Me: Hey Lúcio, I’m super sorry but I’m short on funds. I can’t make it tonight. I hope your gig went well._

I make my way across the street towards my apartment building. I’m so glad I live close so I can hide in times like this.

_Buzz buzz._

I unlock my phone and read, making my way in up the stairs to the main entrance.

_Lúcio: LOL did you give someone a cookie again?_

You little shit, how do you know?

_Me: Noo................._

_Lúcio: Nerd. Since you can’t, I’m coming over then. Be there in about half an hour._

_Me: K loser ;P I’ll dig around for pizza moneys._

I roll my eyes and laugh under my breath before taking my key and unlocking the front door. I walk up the stairs that immediately greet you as soon as you come in. Well, the stairs and the mailboxes in the walls. I turn right on the second floor and shove my key in the door handle. _2B_ reads the metal symbols screwed in my studio’s now open barrier.

Entering the warm room, I peel off my shoes and place them in their designated spot on the shoe rack next to the door. I turn to the door immediately to the right that leads into my bathroom.

I should clean up before Lúcio comes over.

I toss my apron in the laundry basket before reaching into the shower. Starting it, I let the water warm up a bit as I walk back out and place my phone on the breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the studio. Taking the rest of the stuff out of my pockets, I find the other $2, earbuds, and the note.

Right, the note.

I reread it before hiding it under my rectangular phone. Is it warmer in here than usual?

I start to strip off my baseball tee, making my way back into the bathroom, proceeding to clean my terribly sore flesh suit I have to call a body at the moment.

* * *

 

“ _THANK YOU. IT WAS DEFINITELY DELICIOUS!_ ” exclaimed a familiar voice, immediately followed with his cackling.

I just walked out the steamed filled bathroom, eyes wide, lips tight. My grip on the towel wrapped around my torso even tighter.

“You weren’t suppose to read that Lúc!” I whine, face in a deep red.

“Why? You can change in front of your best friend but you can’t tell him you are into someone?” he countered.

“No, I’m not– stop smiling you big nerd! This isn’t funny. I’m not into her!”

I pause at my claim, looking at the ground confused. I’m not into her…

“Oh my god! You are!” Lúcio squealed.

“Hush.”

“Oh, don’t ‘hush’ me you useless lesbian.”

I whined and pouted, marching my way around the room to my futon, giving in.

“So tell me about her,” he chimed from across the apartment, delightful curiosity clearly in my friend’s tone.

I dropped my towel and pull my eagle shirt over my head.

“Can we discuss this unnecessary conversation _after_ we order something to eat?”

“Ugh, fine Ms. Difficult. What kind of pizza do you want?” he threw.

“Combo pretty please, my dear friend,” I cooed at him as if he was my sugar daddy, pulling my boxers I’ve been using as pajamas up.

“Yes mi’lady.”

“Ew, Lúc.”

He winks and walks into the kitchen, dials up some poor soul who has to take our order via Meme Lord Lúcio.

I put my towel back into the bathroom and start my hunt for a few more dollars to help pay for our meal. I first check my older pairs of pants shoved into the laundry basket. With little luck, I only found a gum wrapper and a dime. Next, I go into my bookshelf and open a dusty book next to my 1986 Trypticon transformer.

“Hey little buddy, do I have $5 to spare?” I whisper to the inanimate action figure.

Opening the book titled _Dictionary_ , I look in the shallow compartment hidden within the book. I find a $10 bill along with other currency bills, a couple receipts, and a key.

“Success!” I look at my friend still on the phone, waving the bill around.

Lúcio sent me a thumbs up and a smile. He better not be flirting again.

After he hangs up the phone, he makes his way closer and sits on the raised up futon, currently in sofa position.

Something was missing from him.

“Hey Lúcio, where is Boomer?” I asked after realizing that his companion hasn’t shown itself present.

“Oh, he’s here,” Lúcio replied, pointing back to his hood with a thumb.

He turned to face away from me, myself also sitting on the futon.

“Booms?” I asked.

_Meep._

A soft chirp came from behind Lúcio’s dreaded hair, currently put into a loose ponytail. A subtle beak peeks through the thick hair then turns to reveal a black eye.

I smile and chime, “Hey Booms, wanna come out?”

“Yeah, he should get some air, he’s been there all day,” he added.

I offer my index finger near the hood and out comes a single foot. Boomer grabs ahold then the rest of the clear pied cockatiel followed.

“Hey Booms! How are ya’?” I questioned, my smile never shrinking.

He whistled in reply and I stand to place him in his usual place on an abandoned coat hanger I never use. Boomer stretched and perched happily, overlooking the familiar studio he calls his second home.

“So, Ms. I’m-In-Love-Now, tell me about her,” asked Lúcio.

“I’m not in love Lúc,” I corrected.

“Sure, cupcake.”

“Oh my god, don’t cupcake me now,” I whined.

“Fine. But tell me about her!” he pushed, whining back.

“Ugh, fine. She’s definitely adorable. I saw her this morning around 7:00 AM walking from around the corner.”

“How did you get this note then?” he looked at me puzzled.

Still standing near Boomer, I roll my eyes.

“I’m getting there you impatient egg,” I playfully snapped.

“Fine fine, go.”

“SO AS I WAS SAYING, she was waking and she looked like she could be a literal zombie.”

“ _28 Days Later_ zombie or _The Walking Dead_ zombie?”

“Oh my god, Lúcio, it doesn’t matter if she could run. She looked dead.”

“Just wondering, shesh,” he talked back.

“So she was just so tired looking while walking down the street. I was kind of worried that she would of passed out right then and there. Then she came in the shop today!” I emphasized.

Lúcio was sitting on the futon, legs crossed watching me with the dorkiest smile while I paced in front of the TV and Booms during my story.

“She was like this tall,” I put my hand about at my shoulder height and continued. “Gorgeous platinum blonde ponytail with the cutest bangs, and wore a pretty cardigan with flowers. Oh gosh, she likes flowers doesn’t she…,” I trailed off.

“Fareeha, useless lesbian: Confirmed.”

“Shush. So then she orders a three shot espresso with white chocolate and I thought that was a lot of caffeine for such a tiny person but she drank it all.”

“So the note?” he questioned once again.

“Yeah, so I just realized who she was _after_ she ordered and I felt terrible. She still looked tired.”

“So you did your cookie move,” he stated.

“It’s not a move you dingus.”

“Sure.”

“Oh my god Lúc, you’re killing me,” I whined louder.

Continuing, “So yeah, I bought her a cookie with my bus money and she didn’t say anything and I felt stupid but when I got off she left the note and I don’t know if I’m over-reading it. I’m over-reading it right?”

“Def over-reading it Fareeha,” he answered.

I cover my face with my hands and grumble, sitting down next to my friend.

“I can’t even stand the tiniest crush Lúc, how do you do it?” I whined.

“I do it because I don’t. Perks of being ace mi amigo,” he offered, rubbing my back.

“Plus,” he added, “you don’t even know more than her name and her tolerance for coffee. Let’s not get too worked over this okay?”

I nod as a knock interrupts our conversation.

_Thump thump._

Lúcio stands up and takes the $10 bill I left on the counter along with his own wallet out to pay for the rest, opening the door. He exchanged the green paper-like bills for the box. The pizza was admitting the mouth-watering stench of greasy goodness across the room.

“Yes! Reunited with my one true love,” I chime as I walk to hug the box now sitting on the counter too.

“You nerd. Hey, do you wanna watch a movie?” my friend asked, taking his jacket off and hair down, obviously trying to get more comfortable since that was the last person he’d have to see for the rest of the night besides me.

“Yeah! Can we rewatch _Dark of the Moon_ ?” I asked shyly, still hugging my, I mean, _our_ , pizza.

“You and Transformers, Fareeha. I swear you will be buried in a casket covered in them,” he chuckled.

“But, I’m always a slut for robots,” I joked.

“I know dear, we can watch that,” Lúcio smiled and kissed my forehead. “I’m going to change really quick though.”

I nodded at him and let go of the warm box to tend to the collection of robot-themed movies I have on the bookshelf. I find the Transformers movie and pop in the disc, pausing it right as the film starts. The TV clock read 8:34 PM in the upper right-hand corner, and with that, Boomer was already asleep.

I lay on the raised futon horizontally with its length just before Lúcio comes back from the bathroom in a shirt and boxers, similar to mine. He takes the pizza box along with him as he passes the same counter. Raising my legs, he sits under them and puts the box on the coffee table in front of us. I press play with his arrival.

“Hey Lúcio?” I call, soft.

“Yeah?” answers my friend.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- mi amigo: my friend
> 
> . . .
> 
> So what do you think about Fareeha and Lúcio's friendship? Let me know!


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